More than a HouseGuest
by GirlNoir
Summary: A girl from Wilson's past might just be part of House's future
1. Chapter 1

this is my first attempt at fan fic-- tell me what you think!

I don't own house, etc, etc. (but i did create gwen baines, here in the recesses of my very own personal brain!)

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Wilson and House were in House's office watching a re-run of _Melrose Place_, when they heard a voice.

"If it isn't Dr. James Wilson."

They both looked up and saw a young woman leaning against the glass door of the office, arms folded across her chest. She was beautiful in a natural way—long light brown hair, gray eyes; dressed in a tiny, delicate camisole and low rise jeans. One of her arms had a couple dozen thin bangle bracelets on it that clicked together as she moved towards the men.

Wilson squinted at her and then looked shocked, "Gwen! What are you doing here?" He reached out as she came forward for a hug.

"Can't one old friend visit another?" she asked, innocently.

"Not when it's you, Gwenie. Never when it's you."

"Oh, 'Gwenie,' is it? We're back in the pantry now, Jimmy?" Gwen arched an eyebrow.

Wilson sighed and rubbed his forehead, "That was a long time ago. We were different people."

"I'm not trying to get back together with you, James! I'm working on my second PhD at Princeton. Since I'd be in town I thought I would come see you."

"Wait," House said, breaking in, "You two dated!"

Gwen and Wilson exchanged a look. Gwen laughed.

"Sort of," she said, "I'm the reason his second marriage broke up. Gwen Baines," she extended her hand for House to shake.

He did but instead of introducing himself he looked at Wilson accusingly, "Explain, Jimmy."

Wilson sighed again, "Gwen was Bonnie's graduate assistant."

"One thing led to another," she continued.

"And eventually," Wilson went on, "Bonnie found out."

"In their bed," Gwen said, looking at House conspiratorially, "Not a pretty scene."

"How did I not know about this? How old are you?" he asked looking at her closely. She couldn't be more than a day over 18.

"Twenty-two," she replied.

"So that would mean…" House said, doing the math.

"She was 19 when we hooked up," Wilson snapped.

"Lighten up, Jimmy! It wasn't illegal," she grinned and playfully punched him in the arm. He still looked pained when his beeper went off.

"Look, Gwen…"

She held up her hands in surrender, "Just wanted to say hi, see how you were doing. You look good James."

He hung his head and looked a little ashamed at having treated her so badly, "I'll call you sometime, okay? We'll have drinks." The beeper went off again, "I have to go. In the mean time," he pointed at House, "Don't talk to him."

Wilson took off down the hall and House and Gwen were left alone.

"Now I'm just curious about you. If Jimmy thought I would leave you alone after that he is sorely mistaken," Gwen said.

"A woman after my own heart," House thought.

"Now," she continued, "If you really wanted to piss James off we could go out for drinks. You busy?" she asked.

He was a little taken aback but refused to show it on his face. What interest could this creature have in him? But he had to admit he was attracted to her. Very much. And it was just drinks. And just to make Wilson crazy. Who knew what kind of juicy secrets he could squeeze out of this girl.

"I've got clinic duty. So basically I am free! Let's go," he limped back towards his desk to grab his jacket.

"Great!" Gwen beamed.


	2. Chapter 2

Not too far from the hospital, they are seated in a dimly lit bar.

He looked at his cane, "You're not going to ask?"

She looked at him, "Is it an issue?"

"Most of the world seems to think so," he said.

She shrugged, "I figured if it was you would have said something. I assume everything else still works, if you know what I mean. A leg's a leg." She shrugged again and took a swing of her drink.

He raised an eyebrow and went back to his drink. This girl was sharp. And interesting. A mystery. And if there was one thing he liked, it was a mystery.

"So your second PhD?" he starts.

She nods, "The first was in literature. But my undergrad was a double major of history and philosophy. Now I want a PhD in art history, emphasis in symbols."

"Very Da Vinci Code of you," Greg comments, "What's your I.Q.?"

"What kind of small talk is that?" she laughs.

"To do someone in is to kill them," he quotes.

She laughs more, "Pygmalion."

"Of course."

"So what's _your_ I.Q.?"

"I'm not the one who had a doctorate at age twenty-two."

"What a has-been," she jokes dryly, draining her glass.

"Another?" he asks, already signaling the bartender.

The drink comes and she stirs it seductively, or so it seems to Greg.

"I'm not so good at small talk," she confided, "I always feel like just cut to the crap and stop being polite."

"I know what you mean," he says starting in on a fresh scotch.

"Empty compliments in everyday life. What's the point? Why can't people say what they mean?"

Greg laughs, "How did you ever get along with Jimmy?"

"We both needed to escape Bonnie. I wouldn't say it was a perfect relationship. I think we make better friends than lovers. I like him a lot but he is way too nice for me."

Soon enough, they decide to go out to dinner where more alcoholic drinks are consumed and then House invites her to his apartment.

"But you said you share an apartment with Jimmy. That might be a little awkward," she said.

"I would think you would get a kick out of that," he says leaning closer to her.

"Maybe I would," she whispers, holding his stare.


	3. Chapter 3

In the apartment all bets are off as Greg and Gwen start to go at it like a couple of teenagers. She has both of his shirts off by the time they reach the door of his bedroom.

"Oh God!" he whispers, enjoying every minute of it.

Gwen straddles him, still wearing her lacy underpants. As she hovers above him, her breasts nearly fall out of the camisole. As it is, the shirt gaps open and he gets an eyeful.

Gwen glances at his hurt leg, "Are you sure? Will you tell me if I hurt you?" she asks, suddenly afraid.

"Shut up, Gwen," he says, savagely flipping her over so he is on top of her.

They were awoken the next morning with a loud, "Oh God!" from Wilson who wandered into the bedroom to ask if Greg had seen his favorite pair of argyle socks. Both woke up.

"Good morning, Jimmy," Greg said.

Gwen grunted and rolled over, snuggling into him. She began kissing Greg's chest.

Wilson looks shocked and disgusted all at the same time.

"Close the door!" Greg yelled.

Wilson did so and the two on the bed burst out laughing.

"This is usually the part where I leave the money on the dresser," Gwen joked.

"Was this a one night stand?" he queries, pulling her even closer to him.

She smiles, "I'd like it to at _least_ be a two-night and an afternoon stand."

"That can be arranged," he says kissing her deeply.

He studied her for a few moments, thinking of how much she fascinated him.

About 15 minutes later, fully dressed, the two went out to the kitchen where Wilson was putting on his jacket, "I'm going. I may have to poke out my own eyes but I am leaving."

"Good," Greg responded and gestured to Gwen, "Up on the counter!"

She laughed. Wilson did not.


	4. Chapter 4

In the hospital cafeteria:

"She's so not your type," Greg said.

Wilson raised an eyebrow, "And she's yours?"

"You like 'em young and needy, sure, but Gwen has opinions. She's too smart to take your lines."

"So I'm only a bimbo-panty-peeler. And your type is… anything with a vagina and at least a B-cup?"

"Now you're making it sound like I go for post-op trannies. Hmmm. A whole new field of beauties…"


End file.
